


Dear Diary

by StormyDaze



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Heathers Fusion, F/M, References to Suicide, fic+art - Freeform, references to murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23485939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyDaze/pseuds/StormyDaze
Summary: Fuck me gently with a chainsaw, do I look like Nick Fury?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: RELEASE THE CRACKEN





	Dear Diary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FandomisOhana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomisOhana/gifts).



_Dear diary,_ Natasha scribbled in Russian. _My teen angst bullshit has a body count._

“To be fair,” Bucky said, reading over her shoulder, “he was Hydra.” He handed her a cherry slurpee. 

In English class, Mr. Sitwell, in between bouts of blowing his nose loudly, assigned them to read Rumlow’s ‘suicide note’ and write a response. “What does this say about the increasing amounts of stress and responsibility we’re putting on young people today? Brock felt so much guilt over things he couldn’t control.” 

“He definitely could control being a fucking Nazi,” Bucky said darkly, as Natasha glanced at the paper Sitwell passed out. 

_To a world that deserved better than this,_

_I can't live with myself anymore. The hatred and violence that I helped perpetrate weighs heavily on my conscience, and I can't help but decide that the world will be better off with one less Hydra recruit. I hope my death brings peace to the ones I've harmed._

“I can’t believe anyone thinks Rumlow knew how to spell ‘conscience,’”Natasha muttered. 

“Who cares,” Bucky said. “It’s about the emotional heart of the work, you know? The pathos. People eat that kind of shit up. A repentant sinner, a villain redeemed through death. It’s practically Biblical.” 

“Save it for your essay,” Natasha told him. Bucky took out a lighter and set his copy of the note on fire. 

“So who’s next?” Bucky asked. 

Natasha consulted the list of names in Russian in the margin of her diary. “Jack Rollins,” she said. 

“Sweet. We should have him confess to egging Principal Fury’s car in his note.” 

“Bucky, Fury definitely knows that was you.” 

“He can’t prove it,” Bucky said nonchalantly. 

The bell rang. Bucky slung his flesh arm around Natasha’s shoulders. “Come on, Romanov. Let’s wipe the red out of your ledger.” 


End file.
